The Comfort of Her Arms
by Glenonaya
Summary: Nyota and Christine in the aftermath of a failed mission.


_Nyota and Christine in the aftermath of a failed mission._

_I promised my beta a Chahura fic for her birthday, but the one I started writing first had plot happen in it and is now an unfinished multi-chapter thing I couldn't possibly get done in time. But since she very much deserves something on the day, I wrote this instead. Not as happy as I wanted it to be._

_Happy birthday my dear, and thank you for everything._

_Betaed by Mashup. (I couldn't very well ask you to beta your own birthday present could I?)_

Nyota reached up to put the PADD on the shelf, immediately freezing as her shoulder locked in pain, making her eyes sting. She bit her lip hard to keep the tears from falling.

"You've been overworking it," Christine's voice came from behind. "You were discharged from sickbay on the promise that you let your shoulder get some rest."

Uhura tried to smile, but she was perfectly aware that it came out a little strained.

"I'm fine. Just twisted it the wrong way."

Chapel walked up to her and slid on hand under the neckline of Nyota's uniform dress.

"The muscles are hot. You overworked it. "

"I've been doing my job," the dark skinned woman snapped.

"You're as bad as everyone else on this ship," the nurse muttered. "It's nothing to make light of. That blade nearly severed your muscles."

Christine grabbed hold of Nyota and hustled her out of the record room and down the hallway. Her only comment to Uhura's string of protests was: "Your shift ended an hour ago. You can either come willingly or I can inform Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk that you were working in your current state."

At that Nyota fell silent.

Once they were back in in Uhura's cabin, Christine ordered her out of her dress, but when she tried to remove it, her shoulder froze once more.

"Here, let me help you."

Christine reached out and helped Nyota pull the dress over her head, but even then it hurt like fire and made her eyes tear over. When she was finally free of the garment, tears were running freely, no longer from the pain in her shoulder – physical pain was far easier to handle than the one in her heart that she had been running from all day.

The blonde woman softly enveloped her in her arms, stroking her naked back. Nyota buried her face in Chapel's shoulder and wrapped her arms around her chest, no longer trying to hold back her tears, finding comfort in the smells of Sickbay and the floral perfume that always clung to Christine's uniform.

When her sobs finally abated, tuning to ragged, irregular breathing, Christine gently disentangled them and led Nyota to the bed.

"Lie down on your side. On your good shoulder." She leaned down and brushed her lips against Nyota's ear.

She did as she was bid, curling up in a foetal position on the bed, closed her eyes. She heard Christine enter the bathroom, returning shortly after.

A cold, wet cloth was pressed against her shoulder, making her hiss.

"This should help the inflammation," Christine said, brushing a hand through Nyota's hair.

"Why?"

Christine knew that Nyota's question had nothing to do with the cold compress, but with the alien planet they had just left and the situation in which they had left it.

Nyota twisted her head, so she could look at Christine.

"Why would they ally with the Orion's and not the Federation? They know what they're setting themselves up for, but still..." Her voice grew increasingly heated.

"I don't know. I don't think they even know themselves. Maybe they think that they can outsmart the Orions; that they are clever enough to read all the fine print in the contracts and come out on top."

"How many species have tried that? And look where most of them are? They'd be better off with the Klingons. They're brutal but at least they're honest."

"I know. And you told them that. There was nothing more either you or the captain could have said. There was nothing more to add. I was there, remember? I heard it all. And in the end, the choice was theirs."

Nyota lay down on her back, not caring that the compress soaked the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

"It's wrong."  
"Yes. But we can't start changing the rules just because we don't like the outcome. History has shown often enough the result of that, and it wasn't pretty."

"No," Nyota muttered. "I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. I don't want to. I'll just end up having nightmares."

Bending down and removing her boots, Christine manoeuvred herself on the bed so she lay against Nyota's good shoulder. Perching on one elbow, she cupped Nyota's face and leaned down and kissed her warmly.

"Close your eyes and rest." She let her fingers travel through the black woman's dark locks. "I'll stay here and chase away all the bad dreams."

Too tired and despondent to fight anymore, Nyota let Christine cradle her in her arms, nuzzling against her neck and burying her fingers in the smooth cloth of the medical uniform.

Finding solace in the feel of long, strong fingers playing with her hair, Nyota closed her eyes with a sigh. She hadn't realised till then how cold she felt, but the closeness of Christine's body slowly warmed a frozen place inside her.

But sleep was still a long time in coming.


End file.
